


Denim Distraction

by iola17



Series: What Are You Wearing? [5]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Fingering, Clothing Kink, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22120408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iola17/pseuds/iola17
Summary: David isn't entirely sure how he ended up standing in the grass, watching Ray take increasingly insane photographs of Patrick to promote his closet organisation business.But here he is, time is dragging on and all his artistic suggestions are being ignored, leaving him nothing to do but admire Patrick and Patrick... Patrick looks good.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: What Are You Wearing? [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1457653
Comments: 40
Kudos: 177





	Denim Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> I had intended to get this up before New Year but it took much longer than I thought to get it done. Very happy it's finally finished- it also takes me over 100,000 words for SC!

David is standing on the edge of a little patch of grass down the road from the motel, surrounded by Satan knows how milky exoskeleton-ed bugs lurking in the long grass, hard as granite, unable to do anything about the desire itching underneath his skin and it’s all Ray’s fault.

… That’s not quite right.

While Ray is not directly responsible for the erection thankfully more-or-less concealed by the overskirt of David’s pants, he _is_ the reason they’re out here in the first place. He’s the reason why David’s fiancé is putting on some kind of fever dream inspired fashion show while Ray takes photos, shouting out ever-so-helpful suggestions like “ _Try not to move your mouth when you smile, Patrick!”_

The man who _is_ directly responsible for the uncomfortable situation in David’s pants is standing in the grass a few feet away, doing his best to contort his body into whatever bizarre position Ray shouts out (currently one arm pointing straight in the air, the other held down and to the side in a manner reminiscent of John Travolta in _Saturday Night Fever_.)

“That’s it, Patrick!” Ray calls out. “Reach for something but not like you really want it. Determined but nonchalant.”

The camera clicks as the promised ‘just-a-half-hour-of-your-time’ ticks over the two-hour line and Patrick’s eyes looks over at David while Ray checks the shot. Patrick’s lips quirk in a half-smile, his eyes transmitting a silent apology for the whole situation. David gives a tiny, helpless shrug. At this point they’ve both known Ray long enough to know there is little to be done to stem his enthusiasm. All they can really do is try to cling onto their sanity as long as possible, praying it outlasts Ray’s zeal.

“Okay, Patrick. Let’s try casual, relaxed, arms at your side but cross your legs,” Ray says, and Patrick refocuses, manoeuvring himself according to Ray’s directions. Whatever look Ray was aiming for, David is sure it isn’t the ‘Patrick really needs to pee’ vibe they land on.

But David isn’t really paying too much attention to the position of Patrick’s body as much as he is the clothing _covering_ that body.

So far in this photoshoot beamed directly from David’s nightmares (how else would you explain the fact that David’s fiancé is _right there_ and David can’t touch him?), Patrick’s been photographed in his usual business attire, hiking gear and the hoodie he wears when he goes for a run.

He looked good, of course, David always thinks Patrick looks good. But none of the previous outfits affected David quite like the current one.

Patrick is wearing jeans coupled with a plain white t-shirt covered by a denim jacket, so deep in shade it’s almost black. The whole ensemble is finished by a pair of robust brown hiking boots.

He looks vaguely like an extra on a TV show set on a cattle ranch. Seriously, all that’s missing is the Stetson.

It shouldn’t work for David.

David can confidently say that double denim has done absolutely nothing for him in the past. But suddenly faced with his fiancé in that dark denim jacket over his trademark jeans something clicks and everything about it is really fucking doing it for David.

Or maybe it’s just Patrick who’s doing it for him. Either way, David’s breathing is coming a little faster and his pants are definitely on the uncomfortable side.

When Ray had asked Patrick to help him with some photographs for his closet organisation business’ promotional material (“ _You are just the demographic I’m aiming for! Professional businessman but very unimaginative in your wardrobe!”_ ) David had snorted and fought back a grin. Patrick, clearly torn between being offended and amused had hesitated just a moment too long, a fatal error when dealing with Ray Butani.

_"It will only take half an hour of your time and it would be a big help. I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Patrick, after our long history together. All those years ago when I rented a room to you, a total stranger in need, giving you a job, I had a feeling about you. And what a happy stroke of luck that you’d meet your future husband in my home!”_

And with that, any refusal Patrick had been building had died. David could see it in the lowering of his shoulders, the gratitude creeping into his eyes when he looked at the man who had been the first to welcome him to Schitt’s Creek.

David, on the other hand, did not feel such a sense of obligation towards Ray and had not intended to be here. He’d briefly thought, after Patrick had agreed to help Ray, that he’d spend the evening soaking in the bath and then sit down with Patrick upon his return to scroll through their Netflix queue before giving up on finding a compromise and making out instead.

But then Ray had turned to David, smiling, and said: _“David, no need to feel left out. An additional creative eye is always welcome so of course you can come as well.”_

David can’t recall exactly what he said in response. Whatever spluttered excuse he had come up with, however, clearly hadn’t been enough because here he is at seven-thirty on a Wednesday, watching Ray take increasingly insane photographs of David’s fiancé while David tries his valiant best to pretend that he hasn’t got an aching hard-on with no relief in sight.

They’d settled on this little patch of grass a two-minute walk from the motel as Ray wanted an outside shoot and there was nothing appropriate to his ‘artistic vision’ within walking distance to either David and Patrick’s apartment or Ray’s place. Although he’s now moved in with Patrick, David still has a key to the room he used to share with Alexis and they’ve been using it as a changing room (he’s beginning to suspect this was the real reason he was invited as Ray has not actually asked for any artistic input or taken David’s freely-offered, insightful notes on board.)

So, slowly, David had lapsed into petulant silence.

Except, relieved of the burden of sharing his creative composition advice with the unappreciative Ray, his mood soon shifted when he noticed that Patrick was looking good. Really good.

His breath had sped up, cock stirring in interest in response to his increasingly X-rated appreciation of his fiancé and his fantastic body, showcased to perfection in well-fitting navy denim which, by some optical trick of the light, appeared to be more black than blue under the setting rays of the sun.

David lets his eyes run over that body again, drinking in every visible inch of Patrick’s powerful, muscled frame, dick giving another hopeful twitch. Abruptly, a thought hits him and his mouth goes dry as it takes shape.

Perhaps he could feign a bug-in-eye emergency and convince Ray he needs Patrick’s help to wash it out in the motel bathroom. The moment the door is closed he could have Patrick up against it, pinned against him, his mouth coaxing Patrick’s open for a taste. Once Patrick felt the effect he was having on David, he’d want to help with David’s predicament. David probably wouldn’t even need to ask for a quick hand job to take the edge off. Patrick would just know; Patrick would give David what he needs.

David’s warming to the idea and just gearing himself up to let out a convincing shriek appropriate for being savaged by bugs when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. Looking down the road towards the motel, he spots Alexis heading down the covered walkway towards the room that is now exclusively hers and David’s plans dissolve in half a heartbeat.

There’s no way he can be quiet enough to have Patrick jerk him off with his sister in the next room. For all she insists she ‘didn’t hear’ David when he told her she couldn’t use the last of his very expensive Italian night cream, she’s got fucking bat ears when it comes to stuff that could be held over his head to extort Rose Apothecary products from him.

David takes a deep breath. Ray _has_ to be nearly finished. And then David can take his gorgeous fiancé back to the apartment with its lockable door, sturdy bedframe and neighbours who are too polite to mention all the sex noises, and have him sweating, swearing, _begging_ for David to make him come.

This isn’t helping the hard-on situation.

Once the shock of being included in Ray’s surprise invite had worn off, he’d thought at least the situation might be worth a laugh or two.

Somehow, as Patrick folds his arms across his chest, the denim sleeves hugging his arms and tugging across his shoulders, laughing is the furthest thing from David’s mind.

Patrick’s ass, always fantastic in anything he wears, is calling out to David every time he squats in the grass in obedience to Ray’s instructions, denim tight across the firm muscle. It’s one of the darker shaded jeans in Patrick’s collection to match the denim jacket and the sight of that ass encased in blue-black denim makes David’s mouth water with the urge to bite down on it.

The jeans fit snugly across those thick thighs each time Patrick shifts and David can’t take his eyes away. How could he ever had made fun of Patrick’s ‘tree trunk’ thighs? They’re a fucking phenomenon, one of the undocumented wonders of the world.

David knows what those thighs feel like, is intimately familiar with every hair and freckle covering Patrick’s beautiful, strong legs and he can’t stop reliving the sensation of having them wrapped around him, squeezing him tight as Patrick cries out beneath him.

The contrast between that heart-pounding memory and the sight of Patrick here, now, dressed a bit like the sensitive, inexperienced farmhand who showed up on series eleven of _Sunrise Bay,_ summoned from his sheltered life on the family farm, wide-eyed and unworldly (until he was scammed out of his uncle’s fortune) is intoxicating.

David wants to wreck him.

He wants to reduce that beautiful man to a sweating, panting mess, whose only thought is of David, David’s hands, his mouth, his cock. He wants Patrick desperate for David’s skilful hands on his body, taking him apart piece by piece. He knows Patrick _isn’t_ that naïve man just learning about the world but there’s something captivating about the image, about the idea that David can help him discover how much ecstasy David can wring from his body. And show Patrick how to pleasure him in turn.

Patrick is kneeling in the grass no more than ten steps away. David could be in front of him in five seconds, hands in Patrick’s hair, Patrick’s mouth at the perfect height for-

“Nearly finished, Patrick.”

Ah. Right. Ray’s here.

“If you could just… lean forward and look down. Like you’ve seen something interesting in the grass.”

Ew.

David knows what manner of things lurk in these grasses and between the insects, discarded prophylactics and fossilised lumps of dog shit, there’s nothing that would require closer inspection instead of, say, a full-body Hazmat suit and several litres of disinfectant.

Which is why David is staying very much _off_ the grass, thankssomuch.

Patrick’s eyes dart down into the grass, but David does not miss the little shudder of his chest as he suppresses a laugh at the situation and feels his own heart lift in response. Patrick happy is a sight David will never tire of.

Ray’s camera clicks again and _finally_ his hand falls away from the shutter and he steps around the tripod, reaching a hand to help Patrick up.

“Thank you so much, Patrick. I think these pamphlets will be a huge hit and perfect for helping me reach the people who really need my assistance.”

David scans Ray’s own outfit and thinks, not for the first time, that Ray Butani would probably not be his first choice for anything even tangentially related to his clothing. Although to be fair, there are very few people he would trust with his wardrobe. It had been taken six months, a long, serious conversation about the importance of actually reading the washing instructions and a demonstration of appropriate folding techniques before _Patrick_ had been allowed to handle David’s designer items in any capacity other than helping in their speedy removal.

Patrick smiles at Ray and says… something probably polite and encouraging because that’s who Patrick is when he isn’t occupying his time trolling David.

But David isn’t listening as Patrick tips his head back and laughs at something Ray says because his gaze is caught on the long lines of Patrick’s throat and the dark denim collar against that skin.

The setting sun lights up Patrick’s face as he laughs and David’s heart clenches at his beauty. While it is, quite frankly, unfair that someone with a skincare routine as lax as Patrick’s gets to have skin like that, David has made his peace with it, as long as he gets to be the one to feel it pressed against his own.

Ray is chattering and putting his camera into the bag by his feet and David isn’t taking in a single word because the end is in sight now. The surreal fashion shoot part of the evening is nearly over and he and Patrick can leave and David can get his man alone.

The night stretches in front of him, ideas crowding for attention, jostling together in his mind as he rakes his eyes over Patrick’s body, a couple of ideas slowly creeping out in front.

Patrick suddenly glances his way and catches his eye. Slowly, the smile slides off his face as he absorbs David’s intent look and David’s heart kicks up a notch at the darkening of Patrick’s eyes.

Patrick seems to falter, he closes his eyes and his brow furrows as he shifts and David understands, knows Patrick’s movements and gestures well enough to know he’s fighting his own body reactions. After all, Patrick is not wearing an overskirt and denim is less concealing. David suppresses a little thrill that Patrick is so responsive to him; that just a look from David is enough to affect him as Patrick takes a steadying breath.

“Ray, can we… are you sure you have what you wanted?” Patrick says and if his tone is a little faint Ray doesn’t seem to notice.

“Oh yes, Patrick,” Ray says brightly. “I cannot _wait_ to get these leaflets made. And I wouldn’t be surprised if a modelling agency saw them and gave you a call, you're very photogenic.”

As true as this is, David is unsure who exactly Ray thinks is going to see these flyers outside of Schitt’s Creek and maybe Elmdale.

Ray picks his camera bag up; camera and tripod safely stowed away. “Are you gentlemen going home or will you stay and enjoy the outdoors for a while?”

Right. Because one of David’s favourite pastimes is hanging round scrubby grassland as the sun sets and the moths and other disgusting insects come out.

“No,” Patrick says and David swears he can hear the smirk in his voice, probably thinking about the idea of David actually choosing to spend more time than necessary in the great outdoors without the promise of food to sustain him. “No, Ray I think we’re gonna head off as well. As beautiful as it is out here.”

Patrick and Ray pick their way through the grass towards David who waits for them to draw level before he turns and they start their way back to the motel parking lot.

Patrick ends up in the middle as they walk and David can’t stop himself inching closer, pressing his shoulder against Patrick, rubbing the back of his hand over the denim-covered thigh that’s been torturing him for most of the evening. Close as he is, David can hear Patrick’s sharp inhale when he uses the natural backswing of his arm as he walks to curl his hand round Patrick’s body, just brushing over his ass.

Out of the corner of his eye, David sees the faint flush colouring Patrick’s cheek and as his hand swings forward again, David catches Patrick’s in his own, relishing the feeling of Patrick’s fingers sliding between his own, pressing against his rings, his warm palm against David’s.

Patrick’s hand tightens on his own briefly and David bites back a smile as they fall into step with each other, conjoined hands swaying between them.

Patrick’s thumb is stroking the back of David’s hand rhythmically as they approach the motel, and David’s attention focuses in on that spot, on the brush of Patrick’s skin over his own. On his other side, Ray has engaged Patrick in speculation about the next baseball game the Café Tropical team are playing in (thank fuck David is to be spared playing this time, although he is looking forward to admiring a sweaty Patrick from the safety and comfort of the sidelines, possibly with a burger in his hand if the barbecue guy gets his act together faster this time round.)

Ray’s car is next to Patrick’s in the parking lot; the only vehicles there other than Roland’s truck parked across two spaces by the entrance to the office.

Already David is planning the fastest way to extricate himself and Patrick from the conversational vortex that accompanies Ray wherever he goes when the door to Alexis’ motel room opens and she steps out, heels loud on the flagstones. She’s coupled a wide, floppy brimmed hat with her Ulla Johnson ‘Yelena’ dress which billows around her as she moves, spreading the delicate scent of her perfume through the air. She closes the door and turns, stopping in her tracks when she sees the three of them hovering by the cars.

“Alexis, hi!” Ray says brightly. “That is a very striking outfit you’re wearing. I wonder if you’ve ever thought about the benefits of optimising your wardrobe. It’s a very quick consultation. I would just need to take an inventory of your clothes so I can help you organise and maybe assist you in putting together some new looks.”

Alexis, taken aback, pauses to collect herself. After a moment she tilts her head to the side and her hands come up to brush her hair away from her face as she directs a wide, sunny smile Ray’s way.

“Wow, that is such a sweet offer Ray! Um, I will definitely... think about it. I just, urgh, there’s so much going on with Ted being away and my business but,” she pauses as she circles her hand around, punctuating each word with a tiny finger point. “I. Will. Get. Back. To. You.”

Ray, seemingly, is as charmed by this as everyone always appears to be by Alexis.

“Oh wonderful news! Patrick has just been helping me shoot some promotional photographs so I can put aside a leaflet for you when I have them made.”

“Oh. Yay! That would be so great, Ray.” Her eyes flick to David and Patrick. “Um. Great to see you’re _dressed_ Patrick. I was worried when I saw the clothes, I thought it was some sex thing my brother had dragged you into.”

David feels his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline as Alexis leans forward, conspiratorial, towards Patrick and lowers her voice.

“Trust me, al fresco? Not nearly as fun as it sounds. Some rocks are sharp. And one time when I was doing it the estate alarms started blaring and it really killed the mood. The duke sent his security detail to track down his son so then he started freaking out about being disinherited and we had to stop and it was just… not worth it. Plus scaling iron gates in the dark is _hard_ and I never found my other shoe.”

There’s a moment of quiet and David can’t even appreciate the fact that Alexis has momentarily silenced Ray because, oh good, some more information he didn’t want about his sister’s sexual history.

Patrick clears his throat. “No... No it wasn’t... It was just taking some photos,” he says. “Fully clothed. But thanks Alexis, I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Please don’t,” David protests. “I don’t want you retaining anything she just told you.”

Alexis rolls her eyes. “It’s just some friendly advice, David! You don’t have to get all weird about it.”

Ray clears his throat next to Patrick. “If I can weigh in? In my experience making love surrounded by the beauty of nature can be marvellous. I don’t know about alarms but I agree with Alexis’ point about sharp things. I usually take a blanket to lie on.”

Ray gives them all a cheery smile and clasps his hands against his chest. Alexis is nodding along like this is all so very interesting and not at all uncomfortable, so it’s obvious she isn’t really listening. Patrick’s thumb has frozen midway through stroking David’s hand.

David isn’t quite sure how to describe the sound that comes out of his throat.

“Okay.” Patrick sounds a little strangled as well, which makes David feel better that he’s not the only one finding this awkward. “Also good advice but maybe we’re getting a little... off track.”

Alexis squints at him, hands rising to her chest. “Weren’t we talking about you and Da-?”

“No!” David bursts out, needing to make this end. “Ray was taking photos of Patrick for his business. That’s it! No one was having sex!”

Alexis glances over her shoulder, back towards the motel room. “But Patrick’s clothes are in there.”

“He was getting changed! At no point was anyone naked outside this afternoon,” David says, pitch climbing steadily.

Alexis purses her lips. “Oh now I feel bad! I didn’t mean you shouldn’t like, try it if you want. It can be very freeing! Just maybe stay away from private property and clear the area of jagged rocks first.”

David’s eyes close tightly, and he takes a deep breath through his nose.

Patrick squeezes his hand firmly, steady and grounding.

“Thanks Alexis. Thanks Ray. Very helpful,” Patrick says and David isn’t sure how he manages to sound sincere rather than horrified.

Ray’s pleased smile, if possible, gets wider. “Delighted to be of help. But if you’ll excuse me, I am very excited to see how these photos have turned out and my computer is calling!”

David relaxes slightly as half of the inappropriate story squad says his goodbyes and gets into the car. Patrick tugs David after him under the motel canopy, stepping out of the way of Ray’s car as he starts to reverse.

Alexis has pulled her phone from her bag, absently scrolling through her messages as David and Patrick watch Ray drive out of the parking lot and disappear towards town.

“He is such a sweetie,” Alexis says. “So weird he didn’t ask _you_ to model for him, David.”

David glares as she pulls a faux sympathetic face, clearly designed to piss him off and perfected from years of experience being a younger sibling.

“Okay. It’s just Patrick’s aesthetic is much more in line with Ray’s vision and- fuck off, Alexis.”

“Just saying David. That’s got to sting.” She’s fiddling with her phone, texting with lightning fingers, smirk almost hidden by the curtain of her hair falling in front of her face.

“Excuse me? My aesthetic? What’s my aesthetic?” Patrick teases.

“Don’t pretend you’re offended. You know what I meant.”

Patrick laughs. “You know Ray was trying to flatter me by asking me, right? He only chose me because I owed him and there was no way he’d get you crouching in the grass.”

Patrick nudges David’s shoulder with his own as he turns more fully to face David. “Of the two of us, I know who’s more photogenic.” His voice has dipped low, warm and affectionate and David feels the flush creeping up his neck. Pleased and suitably placated, he averts his gaze and watches his feet shuffle on the stone pathway.

He’s opening his mouth to protest, to voice just how very handsome Patrick is, when Alexis feels the need to ruin things. Again.

“Aww!”

Patrick steps away instantly and clears his throat and David suspects he, too, had almost forgotten Alexis’ presence.

“You two are disgusting.” But her voice is delighted, her hands doing that strange fluttery motion by her chest and David knows his sister is genuinely, truly overjoyed for his happiness.

Patrick’s free hand rubs at the back of his neck, embarrassed and Alexis beams at them both while she tries (and fails) to wink.

“Sorry, Alexis. I... Never mind. Um. Listen, I think David and I are gonna head off as well. We’ve not eaten yet.”

“Oh. Well, I was just going to the café to meet Mom and Dad. Why don’t you guys come? We can talk wedding planning! Oh yay!” She claps her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet and her hair swings around her shoulders as she looks between the two men.

Patrick’s mouth opens and closes helplessly. “That’s... a lovely thought Alexis,” he says after a moment. “But...”

“There’s already something in the crockpot,” David says quickly and he has never been more thankful that he asked Patrick what that electric kitchen thing was called last week. It’s a lie, they didn’t have anything planned for dinner but David has reached his limit for awkward social encounters today and needs a bit of time to recover. He feels a twinge of guilt, he’s closer to his family than ever, but figures he’ll make it up to them another time.

“And actually, Alexis,” he continues. “I think something bit me in the field so I need to put some cream on or something so maybe-”

“Another time,” Patrick finishes, and David can hear the relief in his tone, his fingers clench on David’s again and David tries not to grin in triumph.

He thinks they might have got away with this.

He’s sure of it a moment later when Alexis’ mouth twists into a disgusted moue. “Oh, ew David, poor you! Yeah, you should go and put something on that. There could be like... I don’t know, tetanus or Ebola or something.”

Patrick smothers a laugh with a cough beside him as David nods at her. “Mmm. Thanks for that.”

“Do you need a lift? We’re passing the café,” Patrick says, because he’s considerate to David’s family and David loves that about him even as he curses it and tries to telepathically force his sister to decline.

Clearly, it’s David’s turn for some luck because Alexis shakes her head. “Dad’s had to run a couple of errands in Elmdale so he’s said he’ll stop and pick me up on the way back to town. He’ll only be a few more minutes. But that’s the sweetest offer, Patrick,” she says and pokes Patrick on the nose. Patrick doesn’t even blink which is how David knows he’s probably been spending too much time with David’s family.

“No problem. If you’re sure-”

“She’s sure,” David says and Alexis shoots him a withering look.

Patrick laughs. “Okay, I’ll just grab my clothes and we’ll get out of your way.”

Patrick releases David’s hand. “You wanna wait in the car? I’ll just be a minute.” He leans in to give David a kiss on the cheek while simultaneously pulling his car keys out of his pocket. He presses the button to unlock the car and gives David one final shoulder squeeze as he moves away.

Alexis turns to open the motel room door for Patrick and he disappears inside, leaving the siblings alone.

Fortunately David is spared any possibility of further tales of sexual exploits as Alexis’ cell beeps loudly with a message. He thanks whatever deity happens to be listening and bids her goodbye quickly, receiving a distracted wave back as she absorbs whatever drama is playing out on the screen.

Once safely in the confines of the car, David feels calmer. The little hints of his and Patrick’s life together soothe him- David’s empty coffee cup in the cupholder; Patrick’s copy of ‘The Ultimate Small Business Marketing Book’, bookmarked with a leaflet from the seminar he attended last month; a swatch book of sample napkin fabrics for the wedding lying on the backseat. All around him is Patrick’s scent and he drags it into his lungs, relaxing into the car seat as it spreads through his body, reassuring and calming in its familiarity.

Alexis has disappeared back inside and David buckles himself in, leaning his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes.

It’s only a minute later when he hears the trunk open, the soft susurration of fabric shifting together as Patrick puts his clothes in, and then the trunk closing with a dull ‘thunk’. As he hears Patrick climb in the driver’s side, David abruptly realises he’s gone soft. Not that it’s surprising.

“If anything was ever a fucking boner killer...” he mutters under his breath.

“Hmm,” Patrick hums, sounding amused as he starts the car. “We could always go to dinner with your parents instead. I mean, I thought you were horny but if that’s changed, that’s okay.”

David pretends to consider. “Definitely a no on the family dinner. I think I’ve had enough with my sister’s views on adventurous sex today without giving my parents the chance to share their comments.”

“I don’t know, David. There was some good advice there. Ray’s blanket-”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” David says and opens his eyes as they pull out of the parking lot and Patrick turns left towards town. “If you want me to be in the mood for sex any time in the next month, we will not be talking about Ray’s outdoor fuck blanket.”

Patrick visibly fights a grin as he nods seriously. “Noted. As it happens, I’m very invested in having frequent, fantastic sex with you so…” He takes one hand off the wheel to mime zipping his lips, and David rolls his eyes even as he grins at the gesture.

Patrick’s hand does not return to the wheel, instead reaching out to give David’s thigh a quick squeeze before he shifts gears.

A moment of comfortable silence later, in which David finds himself breathing easier with every metre of distance put between them and the motel, Patrick clears his throat.

“Why don’t you tell me what was on your mind back there?” he says.

“Mainly just horror,” David says, confused. “Alexis-”

“I didn’t mean that,” Patrick cuts him off. David waits, staring across the car at Patrick, whose determined eyes do not leave the road.

“See,” Patrick continues and David’s breath catches at the lowered tone of his voice. “I saw the look on your face in that field and I know what you wanted. Considering that was not the most awkward conversation we’ve ever had to suffer, especially as I used to _live_ with Ray, I think I can get you going again. Call it a personal challenge. If… if you’d like me to try?”

David’s heartrate has kicked up a notch, a strange, but not unpleasant nervousness washing over him. He feels on edge, focus entirely on the man across sitting so close and he can’t deny the spark of interest in his gut. The spectre of mortification still hovers close by but Patrick’s right, they’ve been subjected to worse and if anyone can dispel the lingering embarrassment…

Patrick is silent while David mulls it over, and it would only be someone who knew him well who could tell by the slight inclination of his head towards David that his attention was not entirely on the road.

“Yeah,” David says softly a few moments later. “You can try.”

Patrick grins then, a wide smile that shows his teeth and David’s stomach clenches in anticipation of what’s going to come out of those beautiful lips next.

“That’s good. Do you want to tell me what you were thinking first? Or should I tell you what I saw?”

David swallows. “I don’t… what you saw?”

Patrick switches the turn signal on, slowing down as he comes to a corner and, clearly out of some perverse desire to make David squirm, Patrick forces David to wait until he completes the turn before he carries on.

“I saw you looking at me. Your eyes were all dark and hot and focused…” He makes a soft, deep sound in the back of his throat before continuing. “Fuck, David do you know how it feels to have you look at me like that?”

“Tell me,” David demands, already eager, losing his self-consciousness in the face of Patrick’s hypnotising words.

Patrick’s lips quirk. “You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever met. When you look at me, when you give your attention to _me,_ it’s… I feel sexy. I like you wanting me.”

“You _are_ sexy. You’re gorgeous, Patrick.”

Patrick laughs, a deep rumble in his throat. “Very glad you think so. You gonna tell me what you were thinking about now?”

“I… You look good in that outfit, Patrick.”

Patrick’s eyes briefly leave the road to cast a glance down his own body and his lips twist.

“I always wear jeans.”

“And you always look good in them. But with the denim jacket as well…” David trails off, biting his lip, unsure how to complete the sentence. Patrick seems to fill in the blank well enough on his own.

“It works for you. You like it.” He pauses a moment. “Did it make you hard?” His voice is conversational, curiously at odds with the question and the juxtaposition is breath-taking.

“God. Yeah.” David exhales shakily. “I got so turned on thinking about what we could do.”

Patrick shifts in his seat and David’s eyes drop to Patrick’s crotch, feeling a surge of blood to his own groin in response to the sight. He was right; the denim does little to conceal Patrick’s growing bulge.

“Yeah?” Patrick questions. “Go on.”

“I was going to... I wanted to take you into the bathroom.” David says and Patrick lets out a breath through his teeth. He reaches down to switch gears and David is gratified to see his hand shaking.

David’s mind fills again with all the delicious visions of earlier and he bites his lip, suppressing a groan before he is dragged back to the present by Patrick’s impatient: “What then?”

“I wanted you to jerk me off. I wanted your hand on my cock,” David says and his keen eyes catch Patrick’s hips lifting minutely, an involuntary thrust seeking out any friction he can get, clearly as affected as David by the images being conjured up.

“Mmm. Not my mouth? You wouldn’t want me to suck you?” Patrick says and fucking licks his lips like the tease he is.

David hisses at the picture of Patrick on his knees, greedily swallowing David down. “Not enough time. We needed to be quick.”

Patrick checks his mirror as he signals again and David doesn’t have a clue how he’s giving any attention to driving because David no longer has a clue where they are. Nearly home, he hopes, but is unwilling to tear his eyes away from Patrick to check outside the window.

“You didn’t think I could get you off fast enough with my mouth?” Patrick questions and David hears the underlying resolve forming, Patrick’s competitive nature reading it as some kind of challenge and David rushes to reassure him.

“Patrick, your mouth is... fuck you know it’s good. It’s just- your hand down the front- we wouldn’t even need to take my pants off. But you are... you’re so good at sucking my cock. I love it.”

Patrick’s chest visibly swells with pride and he unashamedly brings a hand down to adjust his jeans over his cock. “I know you do. I know how to take care of my man.”

“Yeah, you do. And I’m gonna take care of you,” David promises and reaches a bold hand over, settling high on Patrick’s thigh. At the feel of that firm muscle beneath his palm, his mouth dries and he squeezes, gripping tightly. “Fuck, you look good in these. How much further Patrick?”

He finally rips his gaze from Patrick to discover to his surprise, and relief, that they’re pulling up in front of the building. Patrick throws the car into park, not troubling himself with taking the time to manoeuvre closer to the kerb as he usually does.

Patrick unfastens his seatbelt in record time and twists in his seat to press a firm kiss to David’s mouth across the handbrake. David leans in, opening his mouth but Patrick draws back too quickly for David to deepen the kiss.

“Inside, David. Unless you want to give the neighbours a free sex show.”

He gets out of the car, leaving David to unbuckle himself and stagger gracelessly out of the car after him. Patrick is halfway up the path by the time David catches up, zapping the car over his shoulder when he hears the David’s door close.

“Someone’s in a rush,” David comments, only half joking as the same desperation he can read on Patrick’s face simmers under his own skin.

Patrick yanks open the door and gestures David in ahead of him, subtly angling his body so his obvious, straining erection, is facing away from the street.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m in danger of being arrested for lewd behaviour. Inside, please.”

David swallows and allows Patrick to wave him in, rushing ahead to jab at the elevator button. It lights up and David hits it again. And again, just for good measure.

It takes an age to arrive, David practically trembling as the seconds crawl by. He doesn’t look at Patrick, standing by his side. He can’t look at him. But he can hear his breath, fast and unsteady, and see the blurred reflection of him shifting from foot to foot on the brushed metal of the closed elevator doors.

Being inside the confined space of the elevator, when it finally trundles to the ground floor, is its own challenge. Patrick’s just there, so close and David can feel the brush of his shoulder and neither of them are talking but David knows, absolutely knows that Patrick is watching the floor numbers climb with the same impatience that he is.

They’re alone, properly alone. David is certain the CCTV camera is either broken or just for show; otherwise the building maintenance manager would have known it was Stevie who threw up in the elevator that time and fined David and Patrick for the cleaning costs instead of leaving a passive-aggressive memo on the notice board downstairs. David could do anything to Patrick in this elevator and no one would know except for them, and whichever unfortunate building tenant was the next to press the call button if they weren’t able to get their pants back in place before the doors opened.

David’s palms itch to feel the solidity of Patrick’s warm body, to trace those muscles with his fingertips but there isn’t time to explore Patrick the way he deserves and he fights his impulses under control.

Patrick’s fingers are drumming on his leg, David can hear the regular _tap-tap-tap_ of his fingertips on the denim, on the firm muscle beneath and almost gives in, almost flings himself directly onto Patrick when they reach their floor, the elevator doors part and there’s their apartment.

Patrick has the right key ready and poised before they’re halfway down the hallway and when they come to the door, David crowds in close behind him, gripping his hips, unafraid to touch him now that the key’s in the lock, now that they’re so close to what they need. Patrick’s turning the key and David presses his dick into Patrick’s ass, almost growling with how good that feels, just that little bit of pressure and it’s only going to get better, so much better.

They all but fall through the doorway; Patrick spinning to seize David’s face and drag it to his as David slams the door closed behind them. He pushes Patrick backwards, further into the room as Patrick’s tongue licks into his mouth and David snakes his hands down to grasp Patrick’s ass.

Patrick grunts into his mouth and David swallows the sound eagerly, dragging Patrick’s hips against his own and relishing the feel of Patrick’s cock digging into him. His dick pulses in response and Patrick gives a dirty little twist of his hips, grinding himself into David and grins when David breaks their kiss with a gasp.

David palms Patrick’s ass with one hand, while the other travels up his back, mapping the texture of the rough denim under his fingers before curling around the back of Patrick’s neck and pulling him up for another kiss, forcing Patrick to go onto his toes to reach David’s mouth.

It’s Patrick’s turn to gasp when David bites down on his lower lip, and his fingers tangle in David’s hair, a privilege that David knows, by the reverence he’s seen in Patrick’s eyes when doing it in the past, Patrick recognises the magnitude of and does not take for granted.

In control of the bruising kiss and with the man in his arms clinging tight to him, content for the moment to be taken charge of, David walks Patrick backwards, navigating the familiar setting until Patrick’s knees hit the bed and he stumbles, breaking the kiss and sitting down heavily. His hands are instantly on David’s waist, eyes burning as he looks up to meet the gaze of the man looming over him.

David watches Patrick’s eyes dip to the unmistakable bulge at eye-level and his heart thunders at the delighted shiver that trembles over Patrick’s frame.

One hand leaves David’s waist to lift the overskirt, David’s hardness much more obvious without the extra concealing layer and Patrick makes a tiny sound of appreciation as he begins caressing David. David twitches under Patrick’s hand and Patrick cups him, fondling him through the material.

“Look at you. So hard for me,” Patrick murmurs, squeezing David’s dick. “What do you want, David? What do you want to do with this gorgeous cock?”

David watches, spellbound, as his sex-god fiancé tips his head forwards and runs the tip of his nose across his clothed cock. “I could suck you. Show you how quick I can get you off that way. You’ll be coming down my throat so fast, I promise.”

He draws back and meets David’s eye. “But we have all night and maybe you don’t want to come so fast. So. You mentioned plans?” His eyes are dark and his hand is still cupping, stroking, moving ceaselessly on David’s dick and Patrick’s right, he has ideas and none of them involved coming in his pants within five minutes of getting home.

He steps away, instantly mourning the loss of Patrick’s hot hand and trying to ignore the sulky frown that spreads over Patrick’s face when David takes his cock out of reach.

“Yeah,” David says breathlessly. “There’s… I wanted… I want to take my time. Take you apart.”

Patrick’s eyes grow hotter and he draws in a breath. Leaning back on his hands, he stretches his legs out, elongating his body and drawing attention to his straining cock. He gives a little wriggle, denim jeans taut across his crotch and his head falls back, eyes falling closed as he grunts.

“What- what do you want to do to me, David?”

He’s breathing faster, face contorted and he brings one hand to the front of his jeans, palming himself roughly as he waits for David’s answer.

David watches, fascinated, as Patrick touches himself. Patrick humps up into his hand a couple of times before his eyes snap open and he looks at David, wild.

“Please tell me what you want to do with me?”

David swallows, trying to get enough moisture into his mouth to form words in the face of his horny fiancé. He loves that he gets to see Patrick like this, he loves that he can make Patrick feel so wanton, wanted and sexy. Loves that Patrick can let go with David and enjoy the experience.

One of the best revelations of their sex life is that Patrick likes to be spoken to, likes to know every dirty thing that goes through David’s mind and David is only too delighted to share.

So David shares.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, Patrick? I’m gonna show you, honey. You look like you need to be shown how good it can be with a man who knows what he’s doing.”

Patrick honest to God whimpers and he strokes himself faster over his pants before he hisses in frustration and he drops onto his back, bringing his other hand to help him rip open his belt. One trembling hand disappears under the waistband and Patrick moans in relief.

David pauses, watching the movement of Patrick’s hand in his pants for a moment, listening to the rough sound of skin on skin before speaking again, low and sultry.

“That feel good, does it?” He waits for Patrick’s nod. “I know it does. I’m gonna make it even better. Gonna make you come so hard. Your ass looks so good, Patrick, I’m wanna take you apart with my tongue in your hole. You like that don’t you?”

Patrick gasps and he nods again, frantic.

“That’s what I’m gonna do, Patrick. I’ll eat that beautiful ass for you; make you fall apart with my mouth and my fingers.”

Patrick’s hand comes out of his pants and he sits up, reaching towards David, one hand shining with precome.

“Yeah, fuck, yeah, I want that, come here, fuck,” he chants rapidly and scoots towards the end of the bed, fingers catching on David’s sweater and burrowing underneath.

David tears his sweater over his head, leaning over to drape it onto the chair rather than leave it to crumple to the floor. Patrick laughs softly and raises the hem of David’s t-shirt, pressing his lips to David’s stomach before nipping playfully at the skin. David squirms as Patrick licks a path down from his navel, tracing the top of David’s waistband, fingers dipping underneath to tease at the sensitive skin of David’s hips.

David closes his eyes, letting himself enjoy the heat of Patrick’s mouth and hands for a few seconds before he tangles one hand in Patrick’s hair and gently pulls him away.

Patrick stares up at him, open mouthed and wide-eyed, waiting on David’s words, utterly enthralled and David’s stomach lurches at the trust and devotion shining up at him. He swallows thickly and drops to his knees on the floor between Patrick’s feet, uses the hand in Patrick’s hair to bring their mouths together.

He kisses Patrick hungrily, and Patrick sighs into his mouth, letting David’s tongue delve deep inside, exploring and claiming. David’s other hand falls to Patrick’s hip and he starts tugging at the material ineffectually, Patrick too focused on the kiss to help.

With a low grunt David draws back, releasing Patrick’s hair to seize the material at both hips, pulling until Patrick gets the message and lifts up, allowing David to drag his pants and underwear down… where they get stuck on his shoes.

David curses when he looks down to see the triple-fucking-knotted hiking boots that may as well be welded onto Patrick’s feet for all the sense he can make of the laces right now. His fingers fumble and pull at the strings without success, and Patrick chuckles above him, earning him a dark glare, simmering with promise.

David releases the laces and curls the fingers of one hand around Patrick’s cock, pleased when Patrick’s laugh chokes into a whine and his hips push into David’s fist. David lets Patrick fuck his hand for a few seconds, before releasing him and sitting back on his haunches.

“Get these fucking shoes off, Patrick.”

Patrick scrambles to obey, bending down and, with some form of wizardry born of too many pre-dawn hikes (although, wouldn’t one already be ‘too many?’) has the hell-crafted boots off, his pants and briefs following soon after.

He goes to shrug off his jacket but stops when David shakes his head, eyes fixed on the leaking cock jutting up from Patrick’s lap, thick and gorgeous. He surges up to kiss Patrick again, wrapping his fist around Patrick’s dick again, relishing Patrick’s moans of relief. Patrick’s hands are twisting into the sides of David’s T-shirt, clutching and pulling him closer as David tugs at him, working his cock firmly.

Patrick’s thrusting up to meet him, chasing his pleasure and his eyes have squeezed shut, sweat gathering on his forehead as David presses kisses across his cheeks, his brow, landing on his lips and plunging his tongue inside.

Patrick kisses him back eagerly, hands clawing at David’s back as he presses his face as close as he can, breathing ecstatic little noises into David’s mouth.

David breaks the kiss and resists Patrick’s attempts to reclaim his lips, taking his hand away from Patrick’s cock and slapping the side of his thigh. The sharp smack rings out in the room and Patrick jerks in surprise as David grins, letting Patrick see his teeth.

“I believe I promised you something, Patrick,” David says. “Move back.”

Patrick scrambles backwards on the bed, eyes never leaving David’s, waiting breathlessly, excitement shining from his eyes. David’s cock throbs in his pants at the sight of Patrick waiting for him, wanting him, dick hard and twitching because of him.

David crawls onto the bed, slowly making his way over Patrick’s body until he has him caged in, hands either side of his head and knees straddling his hips.

Leaning down, he traces Patrick’s lips with his tongue, breathing hotly into Patrick’s mouth.

“Come on, Patrick. Hands and knees. I wanna see that gorgeous ass.”

In one swift move he kneels back up, moving to Patrick’s side. Grasping Patrick’s waist, David encourages him to roll over onto his front and then straddles his legs again, kneeling behind him. His impatient fingers find the flesh of Patrick’s hips and he drags him up, raises Patrick’s ass with insistent hands until Patrick’s knees are underneath him, supporting his own weight.

“Good boy,” David says approvingly when Patrick is finally in position, held up by shaking arms. David murmurs his appreciation as he cups Patrick’s ass, squeezing his cheeks and watching the skin blanch paler under the pressure as he digs his fingers in. He draws his right hand back and delivers a light blow to Patrick’s ass, watching the skin stain pink and hearing Patrick gasp.

He does it again, and Patrick catches his breath once more as the flesh blushes. David runs a soothing hand across the skin, fingers stroking softly before cupping his cheek and squeezing again.

“Your ass is so fucking beautiful,” David praises as Patrick’s hips tremble and a soft groan sounds in Patrick’s throat. “Wait there.”

Patrick makes a brief sound of protest as David draws away, rolling away to grab the lube from the bedside table and setting it on the bed by Patrick’s legs. He’s careful to put in just where Patrick can see it, in his eyeline where his head is hanging down between his supporting arms and is rewarded by Patrick’s excited inhale.

David’s back kneeling behind Patrick a moment later and wastes no more time, bending down so he can get his mouth where it needs to be.

As he shifts, his pants rub over the front of his cock and he quickly adjusts himself, taking the pressure off his dick, wanting to focus on Patrick right now, wanting the rush that comes from bringing Patrick pleasure. He wants to come, yes, and hopes it won’t be in his underwear, but he wants to take care of Patrick first.

He grips Patrick’s cheeks and pulls them apart, letting Patrick hear his low, satisfied moan as his hole is revealed to David’s ravenous gaze.

One thumb presses on Patrick’s entrance, dragging at the rim and David’s eager eyes catalogue the way the muscle clenches under his attention.

David hums quietly. “So gorgeous.” He leans forward and lets his breath fan out across Patrick’s hole, smirking when Patrick’s hips shift backwards, seeking David’s mouth.

In the early days Patrick had been apprehensive about this, nervous about the idea of David’s face being so close to this part of him but once he’d tried it... David knows any lingering trepidation is long gone.

They both know Patrick loves it, the sensation of David’s mouth on his hole, tongue and lips working to give him pleasure. Patrick’s come screaming with David’s tongue inside him more than once.

David flicks his tongue out, tracing down Patrick’s crack towards his balls, just barely touching over his hole and Patrick jerks, hips shunting back more obviously.

His cock is hanging heavy between his legs and as David watches precome drips onto the bed below. He noses along Patrick’s crack and laughs when Patrick wriggles impatiently.

“Yes? Can I do something, Patrick?” he asks and Patrick gives an annoyed grunt.

“Don’t tease,” Patrick says darkly and he drops onto his forearms, raising his ass further. “You know what you can do.”

“Do I?” David hums and gives a quick, sharp nip to Patrick’s ass cheek. Patrick jerks again.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Patrick grits out. “Please, David. Put your tongue on me. Eat-” he trails off with a loud cry when David surges forwards, finally getting his mouth on Patrick’s hole.

Patrick trembles around him as David licks, alternating sweeping strokes with tiny laps. He seals his mouth over Patrick’s entrance and sucks as one hand travels down to cup Patrick’s balls, fondling them with one hand.

Patrick’s hips shove back into David’s face and his moans are muffled in the blankets beneath him but David can hear a lot of ‘ _fuck, yes_ ’s and ‘ _Oh God, David’_ s that go straight to his cock.

When David points his tongue and works the tip in past the tight ring of muscle, Patrick’s words strangle off into a high-pitched whimper. He keens as David fucks his tongue into Patrick’s hole, sealing his mouth around Patrick and sucking as he tries to push his tongue deeper. Patrick’s lost all self-consciousness, canting his ass backwards for more and David is all too happy to oblige.

Patrick is panting and moaning as David licks a firm stripe across his entrance, before placing one more kiss to his hole and drawing back, releasing Patrick’s balls to open the bottle of lube. Patrick swears, hips bucking and shunting back.

“Shh,” David murmurs. “It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.”

He carries on murmuring soothing nonsense down at Patrick as he slicks up his fingers and drops the lube on the bed again. He grabs Patrick’s hips and Patrick tries to push himself back, chasing the memory of David’s mouth but David’s grip holds him in place, wet fingers of his lubed hand leaving trails on Patrick’s skin.

“ _David,_ please, please, don’t stop, so good,” Patrick is rambling, words falling out as half-sobs and David rewards him by leaning down and giving him another long lick from balls to the top of his crack. Patrick cries out, head twisting from side to side on his folded arms and his hips buck beneath David’s hands. His cock is leaking steadily and his breathing is harsh, loud in the room.

David is so hard it aches and he squirms, gulping in air to try and calm himself, to try and hold on.

He could pause, he could take a moment to take his pants off, relieve the pressure but then he’d have to stop what he was doing, he’d have to stop touching Patrick and making Patrick feel this way and Patrick’s so good, David can’t leave him needy and desperate, even for a moment. David can wait.

David releases Patrick’s hips to part his cheeks again, smiling at the sight of the pretty pink muscle clenching over and over, grasping at nothing.

“So pretty, Patrick,” he croons and Patrick arches his back, offering himself up eagerly. “Look at your greedy little hole. I’ll take care of you, honey.”

He brings the lubed finger of his hand to trace the rim, tugging at Patrick’s entrance before pushing the tip inside.

Patrick is hot and tight, his body perfectly moulding to David’s fingers and David twists his hand, enjoying the moan this drags from Patrick. David draws back and adds a second finger, stretching Patrick further and Patrick’s back is heaving, air rushing in and out of him in noisy gasps.

David pumps his fingers in and out a few times, before leaning in and adding his tongue back to the mix, licking around the seam where his fingers breach Patrick’s ass, teasing his entrance. Patrick shouts out wordlessly and David drives his fingers into him again, deeper, harder. With a last swirl of his tongue he pulls back and pauses with his fingers just inside Patrick’s hole.

“Use my fingers. Fuck yourself on them,” David orders and Patrick goes wild.

With a cry he’s pushing himself back, forcing David’s fingers deeper inside him. He rises back onto his quivering arms for leverage, rocks forward and shunts back again, hole swallowing David’s fingers.

“So gorgeous, Patrick,” David says softly as Patrick grunts with effort. David’s free hand grips the back of Patrick’s jacket, encouraging him on, holding tight as Patrick shoves himself over and over onto David’s stationary fingers. “You want it so much.”

He knows Patrick is close, can sense it in the tightening of his muscles, in the cut-off syllables of David’s name and the broken, sobbing breaths that tear in and out of Patrick’s chest. His hips are rocking ceaselessly, moving himself onto David’s hand and one of his own hands drifts down to his cock, jerking himself frantically.

David moans at the sight, this is so fucking sexy, his man is so hot. David’s still hard, dick screaming for attention, he’s shaking with need, so on edge it’s not going to take much.

Patrick shudders and he gives a hoarse shout as his orgasm hits. He’s still moving, still riding David’s fingers and tugging at his cock as he comes, spilling onto the duvet underneath him. He slows as his cock empties and his back sags, caving as the tension drains from his muscles. Finally, he stops moving, frozen with David’s fingers halfway inside him. Carefully David pulls his fingers out and Patrick moans with the loss.

“Fuuuck,” he breathes, almost too quietly for David to hear. “Holy fuck, that’s… fuck me.”

David hums, always pleased when he reduces Patrick to a semi-coherent swearing mess.

Patrick’s supporting arm and thighs are visibly trembling and David applies gentle pressure to the hand on Patrick’s back to encourage him to lie down before he collapses. Patrick falls onto his front, landing on top of his own come spattered across the duvet, face buried in the blanket as he catches his breath.

David’s eyes drag over him, his exquisitely sated fiancé and his poor neglected cock throbs at the sight of that gorgeous body spread out in front of him. He rises from the bed in an instant, so desperate for relief he’s shaking and strips off his pants and underwear before clambering back onto the bed.

He kneels up, pumping his cock quickly as he crawls to Patrick’s side, eyes zeroing in on those legs that have been teasing him all day.

Patrick is stirring, reaching out for David and as his head lifts his eyes alight on David’s hard cock.

“Come here,” he whispers, voice still raw. “You’ve been so patient. Come here, let me take care of you.” His hand knocks David’s out of the way and David lets him jack him a few times, spreading precome down the long length of him, enjoying the Patrick’s sure, steady touch before reaching out to stop Patrick’s movements.

Patrick’s face twists in question and David quickly rips off his shirt, flinging it away before lying down beside Patrick.

“God, that was good, you’re so good, Patrick,” David murmurs. “You did so well. Need you to do one more thing for me. I’ve been thinking about it for hours, please.”

Patrick’s already nodding. “Yeah, anything, what do you want? How do you want it?”

“Can I fuck your thighs? Please, I want-”

Patrick groans and dives for David’s mouth, kissing him quickly, roughly before turning around and shuffling back towards David.

“Yeah, you can have it. Come on, fuck me, David.”

David grabs the lube again, fumbling to get it open with uncooperative fingers, a small noise of triumph escaping him when he succeeds in getting the lid off. Pouring some onto his hand he coats his dick before gracelessly shoving his hand between Patrick’s thighs, spreading the remaining lube between his legs. Patrick lifts his upper leg to help and then holds still as David shifts forward, sliding his cock between those gorgeous, thick legs with a long, low moan. Patrick lets his leg drop, and finally, _finally,_ David is buried between warm, muscled flesh.

His forehead drops forward onto the rough denim still covering Patrick’s back as he breathes deeply, fighting not to come instantly.

Patrick squirms slightly and pushes his ass back into David’s stomach, and David’s cock sinks further between Patrick’s thighs. David grunts closes his eyes, focused on the warmth and pressure surrounding him as he starts to thrust, slowly and then picking up speed.

Patrick moves with him, tiny shifts to allow David to thrust deep between his legs and then, as more strength returns to him following his own orgasm, starts clenching his thighs, tightening the hold on David’s dick.

David gasps and loses his steady pace. His dick keeps nudging Patrick’s balls and it’s so hot and Patrick is murmuring encouragement and praise and entreaties to ‘ _fuck me, David._ ’

David has one hand clenched on Patrick’s hip, dragging him closer and the other clenches in the denim at back of Patrick’s neck, tugging and pulling at the fabric.

“Yeah, fuck, take what you want, David, take me,” Patrick urges him and shifts his legs, giving delicious friction to David’s dick.

David is thrusting frantically now, not even pretending to have control over the speed of his hips. He’s so close and Patrick’s thighs are heaven, fuck this is good, he needs to come so badly.

He thinks he must pant something to that effect into Patrick’s back because his deep voice reaches through the haze to meet David’s ears.

“That’s okay, you can come, David, give me your come. Want to feel you come for me.”

David whines as he fucks desperately into Patrick’s thighs. He’s close, his vision is blurring, he can feel the muscles in his stomach clenching tight as he thrusts, he’s so nearly there.

His fingernails dig into Patrick’s hips and he shoves himself forward one more time and shudders as he spills, groaning, into the space between Patrick’s legs.

It’s dirty and wet and so fucking good that David can’t breathe as his come spreads between Patrick’s legs, around David’s dick and drips down onto the bed beneath.

His fingers release their hold on Patrick and he gasps for air.

He doesn’t know how long it is until reason starts edging its way back into David’s fucked out mind and he flushes, recalling the helpless grunts that came out of his mouth as he rutted against his fiancé like a wild fucking animal.

Although, he reassures himself, he wasn’t the only one who went feral. And Patrick really didn’t seem to mind.

In contrast to the whirlwind of earlier, Patrick’s hand is soothing on top of David’s on his hip, stroking gently across his knuckles.

“Thank you, David, that was so good,” he’s murmuring softly. “You did so good.” David kisses Patrick’s shoulder and, with a hiss, gingerly pulls himself free of the sticky mess of come and lube between Patrick’s legs.

Patrick exhales as David draws away and squirms experimentally. “Holy fuck, so much come.” His voice lowers, laced through with pride, “I made you come so hard.”

David nods, rubbing one hand up and down Patrick’s back as he flops onto the mattress and stares at the ceiling as his heart rate returns to normal.

“Yeah. That was so good, Patrick. Fuck. It was perfect.”

Patrick is still facing away from him and David frowns, suddenly uncertain.

“Is... are you okay?”

Patrick nods and laughs softly. “I’m great. I’m... just give me a second to work out how to move without spreading the mess all over our bed.”

David snorts. “Please. If you think we aren’t changing the sheets before bed you’re very wrong. Come here.”

He places a hand on Patrick’s shoulder, gently tugging until Patrick capitulates and rolls over to lie beside him

“Oh!” Patrick exclaims and his expression twists as he registers the shifting, sliding stickiness between his legs. “Yeah, sheet change, definitely. Also shower.”

His face breaks into a smile then and he sighs, contented. “I love you, David.” 

David grins at him, giddy, and tries to cling onto it, tries to capture the memory of this moment and the bottomless joy effervescing through him. He wants to store it somewhere safe inside him, protect it, keep it with him always and pull out when he needs it.

There are so many of these moments now, piled up in his mind, so many times he has looked at Patrick, in bed, or in the store, or in the street; so many times Patrick has done or said something funny or clever or romantic; so many times Patrick has stolen his breath with his mere existence. So many memories he’s hoarding, wrapping them around his heart.

It’s not that he’s afraid of these moments coming to an end anymore, he feels confident that they have so much time ahead of them to love each other.

He just can’t bear to let any of them go. They’re his and Patrick’s memories and David doesn’t want to let go of a single one of them. He wants every speck of Patrick he can get.

“I love you, too, Patrick,” he says and even after all this time the enormity of the words sometimes still staggers him.

Patrick breathes in deeply, as if he can pull David’s words inside himself, and closes his eyes blissfully.

David curls himself into Patrick’s side, resting his cheek on the denim jacket that Patrick is still somehow wearing. His hand rubs across Patrick’s shirt, palm catching on the rough patches of Patrick’s drying release and David would be perfectly content to drop off to sleep, body-fluid-stained sheets be damned when his stomach growls in protest.

Patrick laughs and nudges David’s arm as he grumbles.

“Right, come on. You can start making food. I’m covered in come and I think that gives me the right to claim first shower.”

David raises his head to protest but Patrick lifts an eyebrow, daring him to contradict.

“Okay. But you realise that I’m interpreting ‘start making food’ as ‘order takeout’, don’t you?”

“I do. Chinese?”

David nods and Patrick gives him a kiss before sitting up and shuffling towards the side of the bed.

“Great. Can you get some beef in black bean sauce, please? And chicken fried rice. Check my wallet, there might be enough in there to pay with cash.”

He grabs opens a drawer and grabs a clean pair of sleep pants and a shirt before heading off towards the bathroom with a smile and a wink.

David takes the chance to admire Patrick’s bare ass as walks, somewhat delicately, away, waiting until the bathroom door closes behind him before standing up himself.

He briefly contemplates pulling his pants back on from the floor rather than desecrating another pair but he’s still gross with lube, sweat and come and that is _not_ the way to treat pants that, once upon a time, cost considerably more than David now pays himself in a week.

Instead he digs out a pair of sleep pants much more in his Schitt’s Creek budget. Comfortable and practical but still nothing he would let anyone but Patrick see him in (he’d even made Patrick go to the register and buy them for him; Patrick had rolled his eyes but done it anyway, a fond smile on his face), another benefit of these pants is that he doesn’t care so much if Patrick gets a little rough taking them off.

David yanks them up over his hips and pads towards the living room, picking up his phone on the way so he can look up takeaway menus.

And then he freezes in place, body going cold as a petrifying thought plows into his brain.

“Patrick?” he calls towards the bathroom, where the sound of the shower has just started up.

“Yeah?”

“When you were living at Ray’s, and the boiler broke, none of those blankets we used were borrowed from Ray, right?” David asks, unsure of whether he wants to know.

There’s a moment of silence and then a burst of laughter from the bathroom.

Laughter was good, right? It meant they probably hadn’t cuddled underneath a blanket someone else had possibly fucked on.

David had nothing against Ray. Ray was friendly and enthusiastic and had introduced Patrick into his life, which gave him a certain amount of leeway and made his cheery chattering over extended lengths of time more tolerable (after 10am. There was no excusing it before that time.) Ray actually scored quite highly on David’s list of favourite Schitt’s Creek residents, boosted up the ranks by his Patrick connection. It still didn’t mean David wanted any contact between his skin and Ray’s sex blanket.

The bathroom door opens and Patrick pokes his head out, a grin splitting his face. David breathes easier when he sees that carefree smile. He’s fairly certain that despite Patrick’s high opinion of Ray, Patrick would also be averse to coming into contact with that blanket.

It’s still a relief when Patrick shakes his head. “All mine. Brought them with me when I moved here.”

Warmth returns to David’s body as Patrick disappears back into the bathroom. David’s stomach growls again and he continues his path towards the living room, eager to get their order in before it’s his turn to shower.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
